


Between Friends

by Brumeier



Series: Bite Sized Fic [13]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Prompt Fill, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:23:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5772892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ Comment Fic for Kink prompt: <i>Stargate Atlantis, Ronon Dex/John Sheppard, shower sex</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Not my ship, just borrowed it for a quick sail. ::grins::

John wasn’t angry. He was fucking pissed off. The Yavin, who had been allies of Atlantis and good trade partners, had suddenly turned on them. The words coming out of the village Elder’s mouth had had the stink of the Genii all over them. Now Teyla was nursing two broken fingers and Rodney would be spending the night in the infirmary to make sure the stab wound in his leg didn’t get infected.

Fucking Pegasus. Why couldn’t these people see that it was better to band together against a common enemy instead of all this petty goddamned squabbling over shit that didn’t matter? Everyone wanted Atlantis, as if John would trust any of those shifty sons of bitches with his city. He’d had to give her up once, he wasn’t doing it again.

John pulled off his boots and threw them against the wall. He’d made sure everyone was taken care of before returning to the locker room to get changed and cleaned up, though now he was thinking maybe he needed to go for a run to let off some steam. Jesus, but he was tired of his teammates getting injured when all they were trying to do was help.

“You’re angry.”

John scowled at Ronon, who was filling the doorway as he often did, all dreadlocks and muscles and shuttered expression. “And you’re not?”

He knew for a fact that Ronon had taken his pistol off stun, and he wasn’t going to apologize for the visceral satisfaction he got every time Ronon dropped one of the Yavin. He’d have gotten more shots off himself, if he hadn’t been half-carrying Rodney to the Gate before he bled out.

“You need to let it go.”

“Right.” John unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off, tossing it into the laundry bin. He could feel Ronon’s eyes on him and it made him edgy. “Wanna go for a run?”

Ronon shook his shaggy head. “That’s not that you need right now, Sheppard.”

“So what? You’re my psychologist now?” John stood up and pushed off his cargo pants but didn’t quite dare to stand there completely naked in front of his teammate. “Should I talk about my feelings? Hug it out?”

“I can think of something better.” Ronon slipped out of his vest and pulled his shirt up over his head while he covered the small space that separated him from John.

“What are you –” John started to say, but then Ronon was pushing into his personal space and those big hands were all over him: squeezing his ass, curling around the back of his neck, brushing over his nipples.

“Better release than running,” Ronon said right before he lowered his head and mashed his lips against John’s. 

There was a moment when John thought, _this is wrong_. They were teammates. Friends. Ronon was just a kid, easily a decade younger than John. And then Ronon licked the seam of John’s lips and he opened his mouth without even thinking about it, and suddenly this seemed like the best idea ever. 

It had been a long time since he’d been touched that way, by anyone, and he’d missed it. So fucking much. He pressed himself against Ronon, ran his hands along skin firm with muscle. Ronon kissed like he was trying to crawl down John’s throat, his surprisingly dexterous tongue leaving no part of John’s mouth unmapped.

John’s head was so filled with the pleasant buzz of arousal that he didn’t realize Ronon had been walking him backward until he jerked at the touch of cool tile against his skin.

“You reek,” Ronon grumbled. He pushed one hand down the back of John’s underwear, grabbing a handful of ass before he got that last bit of clothing taken care of.

John thought the shower on, saving them the step of accessing the manual controls, and half expected Ronon to complain about getting his leather pants wet. He didn’t, but the speed with which he divested himself of said pants – and one handed, besides – was nothing short of impressive.

Ronon wasn’t an especially modest person, but John had never seen him fully nude before. _Proportional_ , was his first thought. _Fuck_ , was his second when Ronon pushed him under the hot spray from the shower head and cupped his cock. 

John wasn’t accustomed to being dominated during sex, and he still had a lot of anger burning through him. He set his feet, toes gripping the wet tile, and flipped Ronon so his back was the one against the wall. It wasn’t the first time he’d gone up against someone bigger than him, though never under these particular circumstances.

Ronon didn’t seem to mind the change in position. He mouthed at John’s neck, teeth sharp and stinging, and he started stroking John’s cock. Long, tight pulls, just on the right side of too much. John shifted a bit so he could return the favor, Ronon’s cock heavy in his hand.

It had been a long time since John had been with another man, but he hadn’t forgotten. Thumb swipe across the slit, pull and twist, firm pressure. Ronon was making appreciative noises, and that made the whole thing somehow more intense for John. He was older, his knees were getting creaky, but he could still reduce a Satedan warrior to groans of pleasure.

White noise started to fill John’s head and he sought out Ronon’s mouth, kissing with desperation as he felt his orgasm building, gathering at the base of his spine. Ronon slid his free hand down John’s back and dipped between his ass cheeks, one big finger pressing hard against John’s hole, and that was enough to send him over the edge.

John jerked beneath Ronon’s hands, skin tingling as everything whited out, all thought lost to mindless pleasure. Ronon milked every last drop from him, before switching their places again, so that John was braced up against the shower wall and Ronon was behind him. John was so boneless and relaxed he didn’t care much what the big guy had planned, but still felt a glimmer of relief when Ronon rutted against the water-slick crack of his ass.

Ronon’s hands gripped John’s hips tight enough to leave bruises as he came, his completion warm on John’s back before Ronon moved and the water washed it away. Ronon breathed heavily against the back of his neck for a long moment, and then pressed a kiss in the space between John’s shoulder blades before he stepped away.

John turned around slowly, knowing that things might be awkward now that the tension had been broken and desires quenched, and was surprised when Ronon thrust soap into his hand.

“Now we wash,” he said. His expression was open, his whole body looking at ease.

“And then what?” John couldn’t help asking.

Ronon shrugged. “Dinner?”

“Just like that?” Nothing was ever that easy, not in John’s experience.

“Don’t overthink it, Sheppard. You needed to work out your anger, and you needed to get laid. What’s that the Tau’ri say? One stone for two birds?”

John huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, there you go.” Ronon put some bath gel on a wash cloth and scrubbed at his arm pits. “Used to do that on Sateda. A release between friends.”

He good-naturedly shoved John out of the way and stepped under the direct spray, lifting up his balls to scrub behind them. John laughed again, and got busy washing himself.

Between friends. He could work with that.


End file.
